Where the Hell did England go?
by Hane no Zaia
Summary: HIATUS. In which England leaves behind a mysterious note saying that he's gone to the magical country he found in his wardrobe the other day. The rest of the world is not amused.
1. The Note

_This... is just a random creation born out of an absolutely hilarious thought which occured to be whilst reading one of those fics where England got all depressed, wrote a suicide note and attempted suicide only to be stopped by the other nations and whatnot. I nearly choked in an attempt to restrain my laughter._

_Is it crack? - Well... I'll let you be the judge of that._

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything but overactive imagination._

**- o0o -**

**The Note**

**- o0o -**

England hadn't showed up for the World Meeting.

While not the first time in world history, America - known as Alfred Jones to some - did know that it wasn't an everyday occurrence for his old mentor to be a no-show - not just late but a no-show - missing all of America's magnificent speeches about how he, the Hero, would save the world (obviously) from the economic crisis he had (obviously) so not been responsible for this time around. If America himself would have his say, he wasn't responsible for the previous one either, he just did what a hero would do and took the blame for it as every other nation at that moment had been looking for a scapegoat to slaughter and roast over an open fire, although as the American was virtually unable to read the atmosphere he simply hadn't caught on to that little detail.

Still, with only Germany and France to engage in verbal scuffles with America was feeling admittedly bored on that day and a little peeved as well that England had seen it fit not to show up and listen to his latest plan to save the world from an economic recession, which was likely the reason as to why America had decided on going to England's house with the intent on finding the frumpy tea drinker and annoy him as a revenge for not showing up, by poking fun at his nonexistent cooking skills and imaginary friends. And, as he added in afterthought, if it turned out that England's absence had been due to a cold or something then America would obviously, as the hero, appear in his deepest moment of peril and save him, nursing him back to health and earning himself a reluctant thank you from the old empire. After all, since last time England was down with a cold, America had actually googled it so he nowadays considered himself as somewhat of an expert when it came to colds and methods of treating them.

Hence, America made his way to the other nation's house, actually remembering to ring the doorbell this time. As he received no answer he blatantly assumed that the doorbell was broken and knocked instead and as he received no response then he concluded that England simply hadn't heard him, so he tried the door handle, finding - to his surprise - that the door was unlocked.

Sticking his head in, he surveyed the interior, discarding his usual loud and overly enthusiastic greeting in favour of a more hesitant one. As he received no response then either he opened the door fully, letting himself in and closing it behind himself. He looked around for any signs of the other nation, who if he had been home and awake would've been - _should've been_ - upon him by then, berating him for entering without permission and whatnot, yet England was nowhere in sight and in the old house that was his home lingered an eerie silence.

America frowned openly at this, feeling rather uneasy then as he slowly made his way inside, peeking into the rooms he went past, his eyes searching them. Making his way upstairs, he first checked the bedroom to check if the older nation was asleep and therefore hadn't heard him, but that room turned out to be empty as well, even though the tangled sheets were a telltale sign that they had been slept in recently. Feeling rather like a detective or criminal investigator from all of those crime shows he'd been watching, America made his way towards the room he knew to be England's study, halfway tempted to pull out his trusted gun and act like a real member of either FBI or CIA, for his own amusement obviously and for the sake of startling his old mentor as an added bonus. Because obviously, America would definitely risk a verbal and possibly physical beating as long as he would be able to see England's face in such a state.

Doing exactly what he had planned, he jumped into the doorway, gun pointed against the place he knew England had his desk and was once again tempted to shout "Freeze!" just for the added effect when his voice died in his throat at the sight of an open window, letting in a breeze which sent many of the abandoned papers on the desk onto the floor in a great mess.

England wasn't there.

A cup of tea stood on the desk, still halfway full but cold when he took off his gloves to touch it, and beneath it he noticed a paper which looked rather out of place in-between all the official and likely very important that England, ENGLAND, appeared to have left to fend for itself. He lifted the teacup away from the paper before bringing it closer to his eyes with the intention of reading it.

The note was written in a neat and tidy fashion which America clearly recognized as England's, when said nation wasn't feeling irritated at least, and it was the kind of script that America found it excruciatingly hard to read but for the sake of the world, because he was a hero, he still did it.

"_Greetings, I suppose,"_ he read, his eyebrows climbing higher for each word. _"I, Arthur Kirkland, also known as England... or the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland or whatever, hereby relay... my Will..."_

His breath caught in his throat and he was caught by a sudden sense of urgency as he pulled out his cell phone, speed dialling several numbers.

"Emergency World Meeting!" he shouted into the phone. "Everybody get over to England's house right now!"

- o0o -

Soon afterwards a number of nations had assembled in England's living room, crowding it to a great extent all while several of them - those that didn't get that well along with each other - bickered and complained rather loudly at having to see the other nation's face so soon after an actual meeting.

America silenced them almost immediately though, not with his usually loud and really cool greeting but with complete silence along with an almost grim facial expression that few nations had seen since the days of World War II.

"So, what's the emergency, _Amérique_?" France inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

America replied simply by handing him the note. The Frenchman took it, looked at it and frowned deeply before passing it off to his left. "_Matthieu_, will you be so kind?"

One moment later, Canada faded into existence in the spot next to France, startling several nations on the way, as he received the note. The normally rather shy nation looked at the paper before clearing his throat, starting to read it out loud. "_Greetings, I suppose,"_ he read. _"I, Arthur Kirkland, also known as England or the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland or whatever, hereby relay my Will to whichever poor tosser happens to be reading this note written by me, being in sound body and mind of course..."_

An extreme silence settled in the room but was soon enough broken by several exclaims of disbelief. "Will?" somebody shouted. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?"

Canada didn't respond; he merely continued reading upon which people settled down again although they were certainly paying a lot more attention to him then, making him feel slightly uncomfortable. "_Anyways, I can pretty safely say that I didn't get that well along with any of you other nations and thinking about it now I believe that most of it was probably my fault in one way or another, hence I do suppose that at least some of you people have at least some kind of reason for hating my guts,"_ Canada read, pausing slightly before continuing, _"Yeah, I'm talking about you Scotland, Wales and Ireland; of all of the people I've ever wronged I do believe that I've wronged you the most, although you have to admit that you asked for it on more than one occasion..."_

"The Hell we did," Ireland retorted, as he was the only one of them that was present.

"_Now..."_ Canada continued reading, seemingly unaffected. _"As compensation you can have my share of land and if you feel like it, split it fairly amongst yourselves or do whatever suits your tastes as long as you do not, and I repeat, do not let my people feel the brunt of whatever grudges you may have been nursing against me."_

Ireland merely quirked an eyebrow before reaching into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and dialling a number, holding the phone against his ear while waiting for somebody to pick up at the other end while Canada had apparently decided to have a pause in reading in favour of looking at whatever his fellow nation was up to. Someone picked up on the other end and Ireland spoke up.

"Hey, Scotland?" he said. "I've got some good news and some bad news. In what order would you prefer them to be delivered?"

"_Good news first,"_ was the noncommittal reply from the other end.

"Well..." Ireland seemed to be searching for the right words but had troubles finding them. "The good news is that you, me and Wales will be able to split England equally between us, although as for me I'm satisfied as long as I get Northern Ireland back, so you and Wales can just decide what to do with the rest yourselves..."

"_...Okay?"_ Scotland finally replied. _"And the bad news?"_

"England's missing and he left us a Will, so it's probable that he committed suicide or something," Ireland neutrally stated.

Scotland remained silent for a couple of moments before speaking up again, _"No really, what's the bad news?"_

"England's likely committed suicide," Ireland repeated, silently suspecting that Scotland was drunk.

"_And that qualifies as bad news, how?"_ Scotland asked, honestly curious.

"Ugh... forget it," Ireland finally sighed. "I'm hanging up now so do me a favour and give Wales the news."

"_Will do."_

Putting his phone away Ireland looked up, finally noticing the fact that he had quite an audience. "Oh? I held you up, didn't I?" he said, tilting his head to the side. "Do continue."

Canada looked down at the note again and started reading out loud again.

"_Next I would like to apologize to all those sorry little colonies that have ever been misfortunate enough to be a part of the British Empire; Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Hong Kong and India especially,"_ he read, barely choking back a sob at the fact that England had actually remembered his name for once, all while his brother Alfred muttered something along the lines of "what about me?" before Canada continued, _"America? Not so much to be completely honest; you were an ungrateful brat to begin with and besides, I believe that having this old tosser off your back should be way more than you deserve but alas, I have made my decision and I stand by it..."_

America opened his mouth to protest but was forcibly shut up by Australia who'd put a hand over his mouth, hissing that he wanted to hear the rest.

"_As for you other old colonies of mine that have gone by unmentioned I don't really care what you do,"_ Canada read. _"Go throw a party for all that I care and celebrate my departure from this world if that's your thing. Also, if you do, make sure to invite my former protectorates as well; I do believe that they'd like to celebrate this event almost as much as you would."_

"Damn straight we do," came the reply from one of said former protectorates, which was followed by a murmur of agreement from a couple of others.

"_Next I would like to apologize to my allies, current and former ones, for my conduct during the wars and persistence in proclaiming neutrality once I've beat up France,"_ Canada read, casting a glance at the nation in question before once again returning his attention to the note in his hand. _"And no France, I'm not apologizing for that; I don't regret it at all actually. Though I must admit that you did do your part in raising me and all that, but really you wino, do the world a favour and go and choke on something..."_

"No will do, _Angleterre_," said nation muttered.

"_Next I would like to apologize to my enemies, old ones and new, especially Spain for my conduct during my pirating days as Captain Kirkland, although other than that I really think that you should take your conquistador arse and shove it. Seriously."_

Spain merely quirked an eyebrow at this.

"_Ugh, I'm sick of apologizing,"_ Canada read.

"Well, England apologizing for anything at all should be seen as a sign of the apocalypse don't you think?" someone said while others murmured in agreement.

"_Next I'm going to ask America to learn how to spell properly and stop butchering my language. Seriously,"_ Canada read while America protested. _"Next I'm going to tell Sealand that no, you're not a nation and I won't acknowledge you. Hah! But on second thought, sure why not? So, Peter Kirkland, I hereby acknowledge you as micronation. So just go ahead and have fun with that, Principality of Sealand."_

"Speaking of which, where is Sealand anyway?" Ireland asked.

"He's probably with Tino and Berwald," Estonia replied. "Finland and Sweden... Speaking of which, has anybody noticed that none of the Nordics are here?"

"Nobody cares," Netherlands grunted.

"_Anyways, now that I have that part done I suppose I'll be able to address the real issue here so to say..."_ Canada read, his eyebrows climbing as he continued, _"Now, contrary to whatever you people may have surmised, this is not a suicide note; this is a "I've-been-feeling-rather-unappreciated-these-days -and-honestly-can't-take-anymore-crap-from-you-peo ple-regarding-my-supposed-delusions-so-I'm-off-on- permanent-vacation-in-the-magical-country-I-found- in-my-closet-the-other-day" kind of note, and by the time somebody has stumbled upon it I'll already be gone. Now, due to the fact that none of you as far as I'm aware share my so called "delusions" I seriously doubt that you'll be able to find me, so do both me and yourself a favour and don't come looking for me; I'm positive that you'll be able to get by without me anyway. So, so long you tossers! I won't be seeing you around. Sincerely, Arthur Kirkland / England / UK / An extraordinary but greatly misunderstood gentleman."_

The nations present in the room sat in stunned silence before America finally opened his mouth, putting what everybody else was thinking into words.

"What the fuck?"

**- o0o -**


	2. The Closet

_**...  
**_

**- o0o -**

**The Closet**

**- o0o -**

So, as it appeared England had not left them a suicide note but a _"I've-been-feeling-rather-unappreciated-these-days -and-honestly-can't-take-anymore-crap-from-you-peo ple-regarding-my-supposed-delusions-so-I'm-off-on- permanent-vacation-in-the-magical-country-I-found- in-my-closet-the-other-day" _kind of note, hence leading the majority of the nations assembled to the conclusion that England had as a matter of fact not committed suicide (some looked fairly disappointed at this) but instead went to hide in some supposedly magical wardrobe or something, or at least being under the delusion of having done so.

After having spent nearly an hour of deliberation with the other nations America finally stood up, banged his fist into the table in front of him with a great amount of force and shouted out his frustration. "Damn it! We must find a way to get England out of that closet!"

Several nations snickered, while others blinked in confusion. France's leer grew distinctively more noticeable. "Do you mean that particular closet or the closet in general," Francis asked, tilting his head to the side while tracing his own lips with his fingertips. "Because I'd probably be able to help with that…"

Several nations stared at the Frenchman, some looking rather disgusted while others looked faintly amused while a third fraction, consisting mainly of Japan and Hungary, instantly perked up and started paying a lot more attention all of a sudden. America looked rather clueless at first, at least before Hong Kong went up to him and whispered something in his ear, upon which his eyes seemed to narrow and his hands curled up into fists.

Japan continued observing the unfolding situation from a safe distance, occasionally scribbling something down while Italy looked at him rather curiously. China apparently took a peek as well and judging from the blush which spread across his face within moments he had understood at least a part of the content, while Korea merely bounced around all curious as to what had been the cause of the older nation's flushed state.

Ireland meanwhile had gone into the kitchen to call Scotland again in private, or at least he had intended to do that when said nation suddenly entered the room, trailed by a somewhat tired-looking Wales and a fairly annoyed-looking Northern Ireland.

"So, let me get this straight," they heard Germany's, Ludwig's, rather sceptical voice coming from the other room. "England wrote that unless we share his delusions we won't be able to find him… so that basically means that we need to find someone who does in case we want to find him…"

_In case we __**want**__ to find him_. The German certainly didn't sound like he was very keen on making an effort to do so.

"Yeah, but we still need to find someone as delusional as England is and that's like impossible!" America whined. "Gee, I hate this… I want burgers…"

Canada rolled his eyes and he certainly wasn't alone in this action.

A couple of former British colonies and former protectorates took the opportunity to escape through a nearby window as they didn't feel like hanging around anymore. Hong Kong stayed although he watched their departure with an indifferent look on his face, himself and Canada likely being the only ones who'd noticed they were leaving in the first place.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Wales rubbed his eyes. "Say, Ireland… You're still able to see leprechauns and stuff, so why don't you go in there and fess up?"

"And where's the fun in that?" Ireland retorted. "Besides, I'm not the only one."

Scotland looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking, "Vikings."

Wales looked confused for a couple of seconds before realization finally dawned upon him. "Oh yeah," he said sheepishly while rubbing the back of his head. "Vikings."

Northern Ireland just stared sourly at them for a couple of moments before finally speaking up, directing himself towards Ireland. "What's this talk that I'm moving in with you, you wanker?"

**- o0o -**

Meanwhile back in Germany, having been briefed about the situation by his brother, as Gilbert Beilschmidt, more commonly known and referred to as Prussia (or in his own head, Prussia, Awesomeness Personified, Conqueror of Vital Regions), was rather distraught about the news and swiftly dialled a number. Once the person at the other end finally picked up Prussia shouted "Denmark! Terrible news!"

"_What's up Prussia?"_ said country asked, sounding both surprised and confused with Prussia calling him out of the blue sounding as clearly distraught as he did.

"Our drinking buddy has gone missing!" Prussia announced. "It's so bloody not awesome!"

"_Missing?"_ Denmark echoed still sounding rather surprised. _"How so?"_

"He left some note saying he went on permanent vacation in some magical land in his closet or something and because no one else is delusional enough to see what he does we don't know how to get him back!" Prussia exclaimed, all on one breath.

There was silence at the other end, but Prussia suspected that it was not due to the other's awe of his awesomeness but rather dread of the lack thereof.

"_...Okay,"_ Denmark finally replied, acting way calmer than the Prussian had expected the self-proclaimed King of Northern Europe to act. _"That's too bad. I guess we'll just invite Netherlands along next time or something..."_

The Dane sounded not only calm but blatantly unenthusiastic, and, being one of the more enthusiastic and passionate moronic nations Prussia could honestly say he was rather well acquainted with, it made him wonder if the world had somehow gone just a bit more insane than usual. Still, in Prussia's opinion, sanity was way overrated since none of the nations were really right in the head anyway, although this certainly hadn't stopped him from mercilessly bullying certain nations for their little quirks, although he mainly bullied Austria as a substitute for him being unable to invade anybody's vital regions (not in the perverted way mind you; that was more of France's territory) as he himself had lost his country following World War Two. Besides, it was obviously his blatant awesomeness that had kept him alive after that, even when what had been his people had been assimilated into other nations' populations.

"That's beside the point," Prussia insisted, tapping impatiently with his foot on the floor. "Where the Hell are you guys? All the Nordic nations were a no-show at America's emergency World Meeting… and Russia as well..."

Although Russia being a no-show at a random emergency World Meeting called forth by America wasn't that much of a surprise, the fact that it was due to the nation being out of the house or more specifically going abroad to visit somebody came as somewhat of a surprise, all while Prussia silently pitied whichever nation would be playing host to the semi-psychotic king of faucet pipes, vodka and kol-kol-kols.

"_Oh that…"_ Denmark responded after a brief pause, sounding uncharacteristically sombre all of a sudden. _"We couldn't make it because we were really busy elsewhere..."_

As the other nation showed no signs of providing a more thorough explanation, Prussia decided to inquire further into the matter. "Busy elsewhere, how?"

The other heaved a heavy sigh, _"We're at Nor's house taking care of Iceland, obviously; he's still in a pretty bad shape from the collapse of his national banks and all, along with the recent volcanic activity and stuff so Nor's worried and acting all weird and stuff, talking to that troll which keeps on following him around and…"_

Prussia made a surprised noise, nearly dropping the phone. "Wait… Norway sees things?"

"_What do you mean by that?"_ Denmark immediately questioned, sounding almost suspicious.

"He sees... invisible things?" Prussia tried, immediately realizing how bloody stupid and not at all awesome he was sounding and how little sense he was apparently making.

There was another brief pause before the Dane finally spoke up, _"You know dude, if things are invisible people don't normally see them."_

"But he sees things that other people don't?" Prussia clarified.

The other nation went silent again.

"_Well…"_ he then said. _"As for the troll the rest of us Nordics obviously see it too because it's bloody hard to miss… I haven't seen the fairies in a while though… since Norway hid away all the booze and I haven't managed to track it down yet..."_

"Dude, that's totally it!" Prussia exclaimed. "Now bring the rest of your dysfunctional family along to England's house and help us out."

Said and done in Prussia's opinion. Not so in the Dane's.

"_Eh? But Nor said…"_

"Come on dude," Prussia insisted. "I'll treat you next time we go drinking."

_"Hm…"_ Denmark hummed, considering the offer carefully for a while before giving a rather hesitant reply, _"Okay then, I'll see what I can do."_

"Thanks dude, you're awesome…" Prussia responded. "Though certainly not as awesome as me but whatever. I'm about to head there myself so just hurry up and get over there!"

**- o0o -**

Denmark put down the phone, only to meet the intensive and rather frosty look Norway sent his way upon entering the living room, pausing momentarily to stare at the phone that was still in his hand and then up at his face, causing him a fair amount of discomfort. Then, just as suddenly, the shorter blond continued into the kitchen and remained out of sight for about a minute before he once again emerged, carrying a two bags of ice as he continued back upstairs where he had come from, pointedly ignoring Denmark while he was at it.

The Dane sighed, even with him being used to Norway's rejection he was still able to tell that the shorter nation was in a lousy mood, most likely due to the fact that Russia had been hanging around Iceland lately, acting all helpful and friendly and stuff, which made not only Norway's paranoia skyrocket but also did the same for the other Nordics as well, even if Finland had become rather relaxed after he'd shut himself in with Russia in Norway's workroom to have a little talk with several bottles of vodka and a revolver; as for whatever they had talked about no one really knew but they themselves, but Sweden had gotten all twitchy at the sight of his (ex-)wife getting all chummy with an old enemy of his.

Besides, there was also the mysterious fact that Finland, even after having spent a little more than a hundred years under Russian rule, didn't seem to have developed the nervous twitching or outright flight-reaction which could be observed in the Baltics at the mere mention of Ivan. Finland cheerfully reminisced with the crazy guy, giving him vodka of all things which made him even more dangerous and then just sitting there and chatting with him or whatever they did when they got together (Denmark had asked Sweden if he knew, only to narrowly escape having his neck wrung by the man in question, indicating his unwillingness to talk about the matter). But on the other hand, maybe Finland was merely getting his revenge for the time when Sweden had ceded him to Russia in order to save his own ass, and if such was the case Denmark almost felt inclined to encourage him, as it was obviously killing Sweden to see it happen. The Dane decided not to be too obvious however, as he rightfully suspected that it was likely to backfire big time, especially with strong alcoholic beverages involved.

Because obviously, even if it wasn't that well-known around the world, vodka had about the same effect on Finland as on Russia, making them rather dangerous to be around when they got really intoxicated; less than half a bottle of Koskenkorva was enough for Finland to magically transform from a gentle and peace-loving nation to a vicious, bloodthirsty and sharpshooting one, likely the same one which had fought against the Soviets in the Winter War because obviously anyone with even half a brain would've been able to tell that Tino hadn't managed what he did simply by looking cute and dressing up as Santa; no, he had fought nail and tooth to keep his independence, managing to minimize his losses and deal a fair amount of damage to the enemy even with the latter outnumbering them, preventing a total invasion while losing a mere fraction of what the Soviets did even if the losses themselves had struck the nation hard along with the aftermath and the conditions in the treaty once peace had been negotiated.

As such Denmark did have trouble understanding how Tino seemed be getting so bloody friendly with Ivan nowadays, especially when they had been out to kill each other in the war not too long ago, but maybe that was because Ivan wasn't all about communism anymore (though he did still occasionally try to coerce others into "becoming one with Russia", although that was obviously because the man was lonely, in Denmark's not so logical mind at least).

**- o0o -**

Convincing his partially dysfunctional family to go to England was far harder than Denmark had expected, but in the end he opted for convincing Norway, which was likely a rather stupid choice because Norway obviously wasn't leaving Iceland's side and no matter how much Denmark attempted to bribe, manipulate and in other ways cunningly get his will through the only reaction Nor had to his proposition was to stare blankly at him while starting to emit a darkish aura before once again slamming the door in his face and locking it afterwards.

Having had little success with the use of direct persuasion (and physical violence if the damage on the door was any indication) the Dane decided to pursue some other and more underhanded method, making up an elaborate plan to cunningly have the Norwegian consume a bit of laced chocolate in order to make the process of getting him onto a plane to England a bit easier.

As he obviously had virtually no success in any way whatsoever, Denmark begrudgingly sought help from Sweden and Finland, only for Berwald to stare impassively at him with that scary look on his face before turning around and returning to the task of making lunch and for Tino, who'd just emerged a bit roughed up but surprisingly happy-looking from a nearby broom closet carrying a broken hockey stick, to say that he wouldn't mind helping him out if the Dane succeeded in beating him in a drinking contest. Said Dane declined the challenge rather grudgingly, as even if he had pretty much been proclaimed as a heavy drinker and possibly the greatest in terms of beer, but that didn't mean he would challenge a Finn who might even be on par with Ivan when it came to the consumption of vodka (although Tino normally went for his favourite Koskenkorva Salmiakki he was still known for being able to consume alcoholic beverages of even higher percentages when he got into that kind of mood... or were having a drinking contest with either Russia or the Baltics. Say whatever you wanted about the latter, but even if they were for the most part rather wussy when it came to Russia, Russian vodka was a thing they didn't mind at all).

So, having received no aid from his closest neighbours and still feeling rather unwilling as to employ the help of Ivan, Denmark instead opted for calling Prussia, because said not-nation was far more likely to participate in a reckless scheme such as this one.

**- o0o -**

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the same house, Norway sneezed.

**- o0o -**


	3. Making Plans

_**...  
**_

**- o0o -**

**Making Plans**

**- o0o -**

Norway looked up, his face all stoic once again although there were a certain amount of suspicion visible there in his dull blue eyes that weren't there previously, like the sneeze had somehow revealed some sort of vital piece of information to him, or at least that's what it looked like to the somewhat feverish and bedridden Iceland, who somehow expected it to have something to with the Dane that had been bothering them a bit earlier.

"Big Brother's annoying," Norway finally said, deadpan.

**- o0o -**

"What's this talk that I'm moving in with you, you wanker?" Northern Ireland inquired, sounding rather annoyed, directing his question towards Ireland.

"England decided to go missing and left us all his land to divide equally," Scotland supplied, causing the other nation to whip around and look at him instead, glaring.

"Well, last time I checked I were a bloody country of my own so why the Hell should I have to go live with that wanker?" Northern Ireland hissed, pointing at Ireland, who merely huffed at this. "I am independent."

"Because you're a part of the same landmass?" Wales jokingly asked.

"So are you, Scotland and England and it isn't like you share a bloody house now, is it?" Northern Ireland bit back before starting to raid the fridge in order to find something to calm his nerves.

Scotland and Wales exchanged a look.

Ireland coughed. "Look," he then said. "We all know that the states that are part of the UK are all bickering like some old married couple... or quartet maybe but that's beside the point. The point being? England, doubling as a representation for the UK, is gone and hence so is the UK."

Scotland and Wales exchanged another look.

"So either one of us three remaining parts of the UK has to step up as the UK representative or the union is to be considered void?"

"How the Hell am I supposed to know? It isn't like these things happen every day after all... Still, I would assume that it's likely so."

"..."

"Any volunteers?"

"No," Scotland replied, deadpan. "My paperwork is bad enough already."

"No," Wales agreed. "I agree on the paperwork part and besides I've never really liked the big city life to begin with so going to London is a big no no..."

"I'm not doing it," Northern Ireland snarled. "I have enough problems back home already..." saying this he gave Ireland another glare.

"Well it isn't like I'm doing it so one of you obviously has to," Ireland replied. "Besides, I'm Irish and not even a part of the UK so hah!"

"Then how the Hell are we supposed to solve this?"

"Then force England to come back and the problem is solved," a voice spoke all of a sudden and the four nations in the room startled before spotting Hong Kong standing behind them, wearing his usual stoic expression.

"When the Hell did you get there?" Northern Ireland spat out, still not completely recovered from the surprise.

"A while ago," said nation flatly replied, stepping further into the room. "You were noisy."

"Still they're less noisy than the ones in the living room, eh?" a disembodied voice spoke soon afterwards, belonging to Canada who suddenly materialized as if out of thin air, hugging his pet polar bear close to his chest while greeting the other nations with a smile. "Hi, I'm Canada," he said, answering the unspoken question regarding his identity.

"We know who you are," Scotland replied. "Don't mistake us for England."

Canada smiled rather happily at this.

**- o0o -**

Denmark and Prussia were in a bit of a pickle, since even if one of them was the self-proclaimed awesomeness of the world neither of them knew how to get Norway to England when said nation wasn't interested in the slightest to comply as it would mean leaving a sickly Iceland's side.

Finally, after having made up and discarded maybe a dozen plans, Prussia finally turned towards the Dane, quirking an eyebrow.

"Hey, dude... what's Norway's weakness?"

**- o0o -**

Norway's weakness turned out to consist of two things; his strange floating hair curl and Iceland. The latter was pretty much given, but the former proved to be somewhat of a surprise to Denmark at least while Prussia had merely laughed and said that the Italian brother's had something similar.

Although Prussia neglected to tell the Dane exactly what it was, said Dane found a great amount of amusement in seizing the curl while Prussia distracted Norway with holding a noticeably unimpressed Iceland hostage, and Denmark then found an even greater amount of amusement in twirling the stray curl between his fingers while the slighter Norwegian let out a gasp, his face turning a bit flushed while he struggled fruitlessly in Denmark's tight hold.

"Gosh Nor, why didn't I find this out earlier? I could've had so much fun with this," the Dane laughed while giving the curl another tug, tightening his grip as the other sagged against him, trying but failing to either curse him or summon that troll of his to beat him up.

Iceland meanwhile, watching his naturally stoic brother in such a predicament, felt a sudden urge to kill or otherwise maim the Dane responsible for it and even in his somewhat weakened and feverish state he proceeded to do so, but not before delivering a well-aimed uppercut into the chin of an unsuspecting Prussia.

He then proceeded to deliver a kick to said former nation's vital regions while he was at it before using whatever remained of his sudden adrenaline kick to charge at a surprised Denmark, kicking him in the shin (because he couldn't get a clear shot on the vital region and didn't want to hit Norway by accident), causing him to let go of Norway's... whatever-that-was and caught his heavily breathing brother as he collapsed forward.

Having gently lowered his brother to a sitting position on the floor Iceland took a brief break to breathe before moving on with accomplishing his main objective, which turned out to be to deliver yet another kick to someone's vital regions. Namely Denmark's.

"Man, he got you good," Prussia stated, rubbing his sore chin as the Dane doubled over in pain, cursing in Danish.

Iceland meanwhile, having burned out most of his energy in heroically saving his brother from Denmark's clutches, collapsed into a sitting position next to Norway, who had yet to recover fully from whatever the Dane had done to him. Iceland suddenly realized that he couldn't do this alone.

"Swe! Fin! Russia! Anyone!" he hoarsely shouted out, straining his voice as much as possible. "Den and Prussia's doing inappropriate things to me and brother Nor!"

Prussia and Denmark stared at each other, horrified, before getting a look of great determination as they moved forward in Iceland's direction, clearly with the intention to silence the witness.

Iceland's words however had seemingly brought Norway out of whatever daze he had been in and he sat up a bit straighter, giving Denmark a death glare, shakily getting to his feet, swaying just a bit before gaining proper footing. Then he started muttering up words in some ancient language, likely old Norse, while a sudden green mist started appearing next to him.

"Oh shit," Denmark muttered. "He's about to sic the troll on us..."

Prussia, in all his awesomeness, simply stared at the display, fascinated.

Then rushed steps were heard outside the door and soon afterwards the door was kicked open, revealing a faucet-wielding and serenely smiling Ivan Braginskij.

"You called?"

At the sight of Russia himself Prussia immediately went white as a sheet, instinctively taking a step backwards as his eyes started looking for potential escape routes.

Denmark on the other hand had his attention on Norway, who looked outright vicious, so the Dane barely even noticed Tino stepping out from behind the menacingly smiling Russian with a rifle in his hands, eyes looking about the same colour as Ivan's and very, very cold and menacing. It was at this point that Denmark realized that there was a slight possibility that his life might be forfeit.

When Sweden suddenly appeared from behind and caught his head in a death grip his slight hunch turned to an almost-certainty.

**- o0o -**

It was a fairly undignified position that they found themselves in, Denmark and Prussia, all tied to a pair of kitchen chairs while facing their not-at-all friendly-looking capturers, waiting and dreading the interrogation that was likely ahead of them, likely involving a certain degree of physical violence and torture if the rather cheerful look on Russia's face was anything to go by, as said nation looked disturbingly much like a child on Christmas.

It also didn't help of course that Mister Santa Claus himself, Finland, sweet little Tino, stood by his side having the same kind of menacing look in his eyes as he'd had during his wars with Russia, except this time it was directed elsewhere, at them, promising them a lot of pain.

Sweden also levelled them with a rather cold glare before ushering a wildly protesting and camera-waving Sealand away from the scene while said not-nation (turned acknowledged nation by England, but then again he didn't know that yet) complained about being left out of the loop and whatnot.

Iceland had also wanted to stay for the untraditional court proceedings, if they could be referred to as such, but Norway steadfastly refused, nearly forcefully dragging him back up to bed, berating him somewhat about having participated in strenuous activities such as attacking people's vital regions and continued fussing over him in that selfsame borderline creepy but still brotherly way. It was a bit embarrassing and a bit comforting in a way and Iceland lay down to rest, comforted by the fact that at least it wasn't Russia in there... or any other nation for that matter. Financial assistance or no.

**- o0o -**

"So basically..." Denmark started, looking around at the stern faces of Finland and Sweden as well as the still-smiling face of Russia. He faltered slightly. "So basically this was all Prussia's idea so please don't f-ing kill meeeeee!" he finished, squirming in his seat. "He's the one who told me to bring Norway over to England's place!"

Prussia, also tied to a chair, looked at his drinking buddy, eyes narrowed.

"Damn you, traitor!" he snarled, somehow managing to kick the Dane in the shin. "I told you to bring your dysfunctional family over to England's house! I never explicitly told you to abduct Norway and I never told you to start messing around with his... with his..." Prussia cut off suddenly, clamping his mouth shut.

"Mess around with Norway's what?" Finland asked, pulling off a face which could nearly compete with a Russia in kol-kol-kol mode.

Even Sweden inched away from him somewhat.

"What did you need comrade Norway for anyway, _да_?" Russia curiously asked, still armed with his faucet pipe, tilting his head to the side slightly to the side. "Won't you all become one with me instead, _да_?"

"Pass," all present nations automatically replied while the only non-nation, namely Prussia, grumbled something under his breath.

"No seriously," Finland spoke up, quirking an eyebrow at the tied-up pair. "Why on Earth did you decide to try and abduct Norway?"

**- o0o -**

One tedious and fairly complicated explanation later Finland stood up straighter, eyes alit with a strange sort of eagerness. "Okay, then what the Hell are we waiting for?" he said cheerfully. "Let's go to England, all of us."

Sweden stared at him in disbelief while Russia let out a somewhat deranged giggle. "Why?" the Swede finally grunted out.

"Isn't that obvious?" Finland snorted, making his way upstairs. "You didn't let me come along for most of those Viking raids back in the days so it's only fair that I'm allowed to raid England now since it is a golden opportunity."

"Now that you say it," the newly freed Dane said, sounding rather thoughtful. "Finn didn't participate much at all, not even in your travels down to the far east..."

Sweden grunted, muttering something barely audible but Tino twitched slightly as he was still able to distinguish a quite clear "wife" uttered in there somewhere. Probably something about having the "wife" stay home to watch the house or something like that.

"We're divorced since 1809," Tino said, turning around and looking the man in the eye without even an ounce of fear. "You yourself signed the papers on September the 17th in Fredrikshamn."

"Oh, I remember that," Ivan cheerfully reminisced. "I suppose that day could be counted as the anniversary of our wedding."

Tino turned to Ivan. "And I suppose that the sixth of December would be the anniversary of our divorce then, wouldn't it?"

"I was so busy back in 1917 so I just had to let you go for a while," Ivan said, tilting his head to the side, still smiling. "Say Tino, let's get remarried, _да_?"

The Swede almost growled at this.

"Thanks for the offer but no thanks," Tino responded with a shrug and a slight smile. "I've found that I kind of like being single."

**- o0o -**

Convincing Norway to come along proved to be fairly difficult, but not at all as difficult as expected when Tino, who apparently knew everybody's secret desires since he was also Santa, said to his fellow Nordic that invading England's territory was an absolutely marvellous idea since the representative himself wasn't "at home" at the moment, and that there would likely be an opportunity to raid and thereby get enough money to pay off Iceland's debts since the collapse of his national banks (but then again, one of the main countries that he were supposed to offer a refund to was no longer at work, so paying off whatever Iceland owed the Netherlands should certainly be enough) and possibly even boost all of their economies a bit if they were lucky, following which Norway was all into the plan on raiding England.

Prussia, already quite on the clear with the fact that the Nordics had little or no intent to help out in terms of finding England at the moment, found himself oddly satisfied with tagging along for their planned raid over in England, even if he did have to suffer the company of Russia on the way there.

Oh well; it had been a while since he'd been able to wreak some havoc so this opportunity was as good as any, eh?

**- o0o -**


End file.
